


love is not a toy (and no paper will conceal it)

by Mow



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mow/pseuds/Mow
Summary: Every year that passes and the pile of Christmas jumpers doesn’t grow Aaron feels his own heart growing smaller, darker, bitter.
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	love is not a toy (and no paper will conceal it)

**Author's Note:**

> I was angry and this came out, lol. Unbetaed, so feel free to point out any possible mistakes.
> 
> I feel like this should be continued, but I'm not sure I could do that (I don't feel like I have the emotional strength for that rn, but who knows.) Anyway, let me know what you think!
> 
> Title comes from Sara Bareilles' _[Love is Christmas](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LIODr_RWwEc)_.

The presents come every year. For Seb: toys and books and clothes and boxes of series and a video-game and the latest iPhone last year. For Vic: cooking books and special kitchen supplies and a subscription to the MasterChef channel on youtube and all its exclusive features. For Diane: a weekend at a spa and a trip to Spain and delicate jewelry. For Liv: he doesn’t know, because Liv has always thrown them in the trash or given them away instead of opening or keeping them.

For Aaron?

They’re divorced, so it’s not like Aaron should expect anything, really. He doesn’t. He probably would do the same as Liv, or worse, set fire to them, and he couldn’t risk letting Seb know about that, so in the end it’s all for the better that nothing ever came to him in the mail. 

But still- still, every year that passes and the pile of Christmas jumpers doesn’t grow he feels his own heart growing smaller, darker, bitter. He doesn’t feel like hanging Christmas decorations, much less like setting up the tree, hasn’t felt like doing so in over a decade. But when Seb was five he had asked about that. It was easier to pretend than it was to explain, and so there is Aaron, staring at the damn tree, its blinking lights and ornaments doing nothing to mask the empty floor under it. 

He had asked Vic about it, once. How come Robert had all this money to shower his family with gifts? Every single Christmas. Thirteen years without fail. The fact that Robert had managed to set up a business or whatever while in prison was not entirely surprising to Aaron, but he had still scoffed and rolled his eyes and then brushed it aside like it was nothing. Exchanging letters with rich men who wanted advice on what to invest... Aaron wondered if Robert had allowed those kind of people to visit him- but he’s never let his mind linger on that. He couldn’t keep wondering about Robert when Robert wouldn’t even give Aaron the chance to listen to what the fuck he had been thinking back then. He had followed that road once and it had only ended up causing more pain to himself and the people around him. 

“Dad?”

He closes his eyes, takes a quiet breath and turns to look at Seb. His son. Because he was Aaron’s- he was Robert’s, had been both of theirs once, but he was Aaron’s, had been Aaron’s to raise and take care of since Robert had turned himself in. Even after the divorce, Rebecca had allowed him to visit regularly enough that their bond only strengthened over the years. Seb was the only one of them all who had been allowed visits- when he had turned five, the same year he had started asking Aaron about the lack of Christmas things around the house and when lying about Robert being away on a Very Long Trip had become too stupid a way to avoid the truth. It was Vic who took him there. Aaron didn’t resent Seb, didn’t resent his rights, his knowledge, what he had seen and Aaron would never. Seb was his son, and in a way he was probably a more beautiful sight of Robert than the one that had been in prison all this time. The freckles, the hair that was ginger-blond and thinner than Robert’s but still sat on top of his head the same way, the sharp brown eyes that held softness in them, like they did now, looking at Aaron like he knew what he was thinking.

Aaron had never talked to him about it: the years in between. But before that- yes, he had wanted Seb to know of Robert’s past, how good he had been once, how loving and giving and happy those odd years with Aaron had made him, both of them. But Aaron also knew that it was not necessary to say some things for people to gather them through time.

“You really okay with this?” Seb asks. Aaron bites back a smile at the change his voice has been going through, how it varies in depth and pitch until it settles on the nearly-adult side of embarrassing. 

“Yeah. Nana and Eve are coming over, so you- have fun, yeah?”

Seb nods, hands in the front pockets of his faded blue jeans, the thick white hoodie hanging loose around his lean form. There’s a very tiny Santa face patterned over it, like specks of red in the snow. Aaron swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, knowing full well where that particular item of clothing had come from. Christmas the fourteenth: a new beginning. 

“I won’t be long,” Seb’s talking, so Aaron snaps himself out of the darkness of his own mind. “Gotta give Nana a kiss or she won’t let me live.”

“Wise lad,” Aaron says, breathing a little easier. “But we’ll have lunch at Zak’s tomorrow, remember? You don’t have to- I understand if you stay there tonight. Nana will, too. It’s...” 

“Dad,” Seb shifts in front of him, and Aaron’s vision is suddenly too blurry for him to anticipate the hug. It shouldn’t have to come to this- his son comforting him because Robert’s coming home, only home is not the Mill, home is not Aaron, home is just not home anymore. “I could stay with you, y’know.”

“No.” Aaron is gentle but firm, pats Seb on the back instead of taking a step back right away, though he does the latter after a moment. He doesn’t feel like getting physical affection from anyone right now, but he won’t make his son feel rejected, not when he’s always been the kindest any teenager could ever be. And maybe Seb needed the hug, too. “You’ll go to Auntie Vic’s and you’ll see your dad and spend time with him and have a great evening, you understand?”

Seb gives him a lopsided smile that makes his eyes sparkle at the edges. “It’s like you’re _ telling _ me to have fun, dad.”

“Who says I ain’t, eh?” Aaron wipes at his own eyes and answers Seb’s searching gaze with a smile of his own. “Go on, then. You know how your aunt gets if her food grows cold because _ you lads are late_.”

Seb seems appeased by that, or he just knows when not to press it. “Cheers, dad. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas.” Aaron says, watches Seb leave the house before his gaze falls back on the decorated, bright, colorful but still empty Christmas tree.

For Aaron? Not so merry, after all.


End file.
